


As Good As It Gets

by Jarksarptacar



Category: Youtube RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Angst, Anxiety, Bromance to Romance, Feels, Jack isn't himself, M/M, Ok quite a lot of smut, One-Sided Attraction, Septiplier - Freeform, anger issues, maybe a little bit of smut
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-05
Updated: 2016-06-03
Packaged: 2018-04-30 04:33:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,194
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5150366
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jarksarptacar/pseuds/Jarksarptacar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jack is tired. He's done. He thought it would stop. But it hasn't.</p>
<p>Moving to a new country didn't help. College hasn't helped him either. He doesn't know what to do.</p>
<p>How is he supposed to live his life when those who keep him going don't even see him? Because Mark doesn't see him. He never has. Not really. </p>
<p>And he never will.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. I'm Sorry

**Author's Note:**

> Ok so I guess I should tell you that this first chapter is also my first fic attempt. It's taken me a while to get it right, and to be honest, I think it's kinda alright! I could be wrong though. Whatever. I'm not sure how long this fic's going to last either. It depends on how much people like it. So please, if you like it let me know!

 

_It's not what you think._

__ _I didn't plan for this to happen. I never did. But I think this is just the way life works out. It's full of things you can't control. Things that you wish you could do differently._

__ _I couldn't stop. I can't stop. This madness, this never ending torment. Terror. Torture. I can't help the feelings that burst from my body when I'm around you. I want to be... I want to be your everything but I can't stop, and it's tearing me apart._

_I_ _t wasn't supposed to be like this. You were never meant to see what I was. What I... am.  You were never meant to be a part of this. You shouldn't have been there when it happened._

__ _But it's not what you think. Or it's not what you thought. Is it? I don't know anymore. I don't know. It may not be what you think, but that doesn't excuse what it is._

__ _You're a wonder. An angel. An undiscovered colour in amongst a bland world. What am I? I'm a... a monster._

__ _It wasn't you. It wasn't us. Just me. Just. This._

__ _You wanted to find peace. To find success in a world full of failure. To find yourself in a room full of mirrors. But instead you found me._

__ _It's not what you think. Or thought. Do you? Did you? Are you now? Did you ever?_

__ _I'm so cold. I'm so tired. I'm so wrong next to you, a man full of right._

_I_ _'m... I'm sorry._

Jack dropped his pen from his shaking fingers and put his head in his hands, twisting his fingers through his hair and pulling it tight. He released a choked sob, rocking back and forth on his desk chair as he tried to fathom what he'd just written.

The words had been swimming through his mind for hours. He had found it incredibly difficult to piece sentences together through the jumbled mess of vocabulary screaming at him. A terrified, constant screech that he couldn't get rid of, no matter how hard he tried. The longer it went on the more frustrated he became.

So he wrote the note. He spilled his soul, his mind, and his remaining sanity into the words.

It wasn't easy, he thought, casting a blurry glance towards the endless crumpled pieces of paper littering the floor around him. Mark had warned him before about leaving such a mess in the room they both shared.

Mark was going to kill him.

_He'll be too late._

The words whispered through the room. Jack let out a noise halfway between a moan and a sob and he wrapped his quivering arms around his body. Curled up into a fetal position. Tried to make his wiry body as small as possible.

Maybe if I keep applying pressure, he thought. I'll make the hateful thoughts burst free. Maybe, just maybe if I keep tightening  and tightening, I'll leave no room for anything other than me inside my own head.

_What's the point? You're of no worth to anyone. Mark's not coming back. You've made sure of that. He didn't care about you anyway. Nobody does. You might as well be dead._

The words circled around him, slicing his skin into a million pieces as he gasped for air. At least, that's what it felt like. Each vowel was a knife. Each consonant was a razor. Every word was a curse and he couldn't take it anymore.

His arms were restricting his breathing and he was starting to feel dizzy. In a way he was glad for the feeling. To finally be able to blame his disorientation on something other than his own stupid brain.

_Keep going,_ the voice urged. _Keep holding your breath. Keep breaking your body. You know you want to. You know you want it to end. To be over. Don't you?_

Do I?

Jack couldn't think. Couldn't push rational thoughts out from behind the oppressive force of the voice in his head. He couldn't take it anymore. He couldn't take it.

'Shut up!' In an instant he was on his feet, fists clenched by his side and tears streaming down his face. 'Shut up.' he repeated weakly, looking around the empty room. Nothing. Not a sign, not a sight. Nobody there but him and his crazy thoughts. 'I want this to stop,' he  whispered hoarsely. 'I can't deal with you. I can't breathe. Just-' Jack sighed and shook his head before looking up. He tried to swallow, once, twice, three times. The lump in his throat was a boulder in a landslide. His tears were a tsunami. His face was an avalanche.

He was a disaster.

'Just leave me the fuck alone!'

He stared at the ceiling intently. Silence. Breathing out a sigh he collapsed back onto his chair. Rubbing his tired face with one hand, he took another look at the note on the desk.

His hand stilled and his face filled with dread as he heard the faint voice curl its way through his head like mist.

_I can't leave you alone, Jack. I am you. And deep down, somewhere inside... you realise that this world would be much better off if you weren't in it._

Jack let out a pained cry and dropped to his knees. Pressing his face into the carpet he let out a muffled scream.

'Go away!' He lay down on his side, allowing the waves of emotion to overtake him. He was still crying. He hadn't noticed the tears leaking out of his swollen, burning eyes. He reached up to catch one. As he did, the voice echoed in his mind. It sent a chill down his spine that causing him to shake so bad he felt as though he was suffering from hypothermia.

And then he was calm. His tears stopped. His trembling ceased. His brain emptied of all distractions.

**He knew what he needed to do.**

__


	2. First Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day is off to a bad start; Jack can't find his room. The map they gave him is very difficult to interpret, and he doesn't know what to do. But he's in luck. Help is on the way.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not really as well written as I wanted it to be, but this is how it is now, so I'm not going to complain. Much :P Anyway, I hope you enjoy.  
> I'm thinking of uploading new chapters every Friday/Saturday. Unless I get writers block haha  
> Mild language warning, just sayin :D

'What the hell am I doing here?' Jack murmured, scanning the unfamiliar college campus with wary eyes. He wasn't sure exactly where he was supposed to go, or what he was going to do if he couldn't find his room.

He was doubtful over whether he had made the right decision. After all, moving to America was a huge step in a direction that Jack wasn't sure he was ready to go in. But split second decisions were a part of his nature. When offered an interesting opportunity, Jack found it easier to just take it rather than ask questions.

What he was sure of was that he didn't want to go back to Ireland any time soon. Too many bad memories. Too much pain.

Shaking his head slightly, Jack began to wander through the university grounds, wondering where on earth his room could be found. He looked down at the complicated map he had of the facilities, and then at his accommodation letter in his other hand. Room 212 on the west side. Block C. Alright.

'So where is it? For fuck's sake!' Jack grumbled, exasperated. He swept his eyes across the campus for a second time. The area around him was bustling with hundreds of students. Freshmen like him stood out the most, as they tried to find their way around and failed miserably. Jack would have felt sorry for them if he wasn't in the same boat.

A group of students clustered around the front of the office caught his eye. Returning sophomores. He could tell. They all exuded an aura of cockiness and familiarity as they stood and watched the new students freaking out.

Squaring his shoulders in an attempt to look older than he was, Jack marched over to the group. One guy saw him coming and elbowed the guy next to him, causing him to stop his conversation and turn to see what was going on. Jack suddenly felt uncertain as each of the men turned to look at him. But he kept going, determined to find out what he needed to know so he could get out of this hellish crowd. He was already feeling the prickle of anxiety creeping up on him.

He reached the group and stood there, looking at each of them in turn. There were 6 guys in all. Almost all of them were taller than him. They were definitely all more intimidating. Realising he was staring, Jack looked away hastily and opened his mouth to say something. One of the guys cut him off before he could utter a word.

'What's wrong, short stuff? You lost your way?'

'Short stuff?' Another guy jumped in, laughing at the first guys' description of Jack. 'This dude's like, your height. Are you calling _yourself_ short too, Mark?'

The first guy snorted. 'I'm not short. I'm fun size. Get it? Because I'm so fun?'

The other boys groaned through laughter and each jostled him, taking turns insulting him about his height. The guy good-naturedly laughed and went along with it. He held his hands up in surrender.

'Alright, alright,' he said through a smile. 'No need to attack me in front of the new guy! The name's Mark. Nice to meet you.' He held out his hand to Jack, who cautiously shook it.

Jack focused his attention on Mark. A dark mane of untamed hair. A throaty, lyrical voice that sent chills down Jack's spine. A face that... a face of...

Unable to think of the right way to describe it, Jack skipped over his facial features and instead took in his arms, his frame, his everything else. He would get to the face later, in the quiet of his own room. Away from prying eyes, he would replay the meeting, and recall the animation that seemed to possess the man in front of him in vivid detail.

Jack cleared his throat and cast his eyes downward. He wasn't about to give himself away. He couldn't afford to, not after what happened last time.

'I actually just wondered if you could maybe help me with getting to my room? I'm having some trouble finding the right place.' he admitted, looking back down at the confusing map with it's crisscrossing, contradicting directions. As he glanced back at the group, he saw Mark's face light up with amusement.

'Well well well,' he mused, sweeping his own eyes over Jack. He took in the earphones, one in, one dangling loose, his tattered black hoodie and his dark, ripped jeans as a small smile crept onto his face. 'It looks like we have ourselves a leprechaun, boys! I wonder how he ended up here, of all places? I haven't seen any rainbows recently.' Mark grinned at Jack playfully. Jack stared at him. He couldn't help it. This guy was just so... radiant. It was overpowering.

'Where's your pot of gold man? I'm sure we could all use some of it!' Mark laughed alongside his friends, who all volunteered their own jokes. Jack patiently waited for the chorus of 'Top o' the mornin to ye' and 'I hope your not drunk on your first day' to die down before speaking.

'Yes, very funny, haha, but seriously guys, can someone just help me find out where I'm going? I've had a long fucking day and I can't be bothered to talk stereotypes just now. So please.' Nobody answered him. They just looked at him with funny expressions, some attempting to hide smirks. Jack wearily appraised them, and then shrugged, turning his back to leave and find someone who was actually willing to help instead of making fun of him.

'Hey, wait.'

Jack spun back around to see that Mark had stepped closer to him. Despite the fact that they were the same height, Jack felt as though the other man towered over him in all of his exuberance and charm. He looked up into Mark's open and friendly face, feeling small and awkward in the presence of a boy who was so clearly used to being the centre of attention.

'Which side is your room supposed to be on?'

'West.' he replied after a few seconds.

Mark nodded briskly. 'Alright then. Guys, I'll catch up with you later,' he threw back over his shoulder at his group of friends. This was met with protest as they all started to talk at once.

'We were supposed to be going out for a drink-'

'You always have had a soft spot for guys in need-'

'Mark, come on.'

'You're ditching us for a _freshman_?'

Mark just waved their complaints off, grinning his sun-rivaling smile and calling back,

'Quit whining, you babies! I'm sure you can survive a few hours without me looking after you guys. Just remember that class starts tomorrow, so don't have too much fun.' He sarcastically blew a kiss back at the grumbling group. 'Don't kill anyone while I'm gone!'

Jack snorted unintentionally. He glanced sideways at Mark to find the other already watching him with an amused look on his face. He felt himself blush.

'Do they kill people often?' he joked feebly. Mark barked out a laugh.

'I wouldn't put it past those idiots.' Still smiling, he scanned Jack's suitcase. 'Is that all of the stuff you brought with you?' He asked skeptically.

Jack shrugged. 'I didn't have anything else I wanted to bring.'

Mark nodded at this and left it alone, though Jack could see that he was itching to ask more questions, to search for more answers about him.

He wasn't surprised. After all, Jack provided mystery and intrigue. He was exotic. At least that's what the women at the front desk had called him when she gave him his map. Exotic. It made him sound like an animal. Jack didn't mind. He liked animals. They were often nicer to him than humans were. And they didn't judge him for his... unfortunate differences.

'Penny for your thoughts?'

The low voice reverberated through Jack's inner monologue and brought him back to earth. He regarded Mark, who had one eyebrow raised in expectancy.

'Do Irish people have pennies? Is that a thing?' Mark mused, mainly to himself. Jack laughed.

'Northern Ireland, yeah. But in regular Ireland, we don't. We have euros and we have cents. Hang on a second-' He stuck his hand in his pockets, drawing out a pen lid, an old ear gauge that was missing its twin, and a handful of coins.

'Here.' he handed Mark the money. He took it carefully, as though the coins were fragile or likely to blow away. He turned them over and looked at them in detail, an expression of wonder apparent on his face. It fascinated Jack to see someone so enraptured over something he was so used to seeing. He felt like he was floating in a bubble of warmth and security as he watched Mark's awe. _It seems pretty easy to amuse him..._

'Euro for your thoughts, then?' Mark said, holding the coins out to Jack. Jack shook his head.

'You can keep them. I mean, it's not like I'm going to need them anymore.'

Mark beamed at him. Jack could imagine him as a golden retriever. Immensely happy, bouncy, full of life and excitable energy. He could practically see a tail wagging.

'You're avoiding answering my question. Don't you want to tell me your deepest, darkest thoughts?' Mark joked, playfully hitting Jack on the shoulder. It wasn't a hard blow, but nevertheless Jack flinched. In an attempt to cover over it, he rocked on his heels and gave Mark a small, tense smile. He needn't have worried. Mark hadn't noticed a thing.

'You really want to know what I'm thinking about?' Jack questioned.

'Of course I do. Whatever it is, it seems like you're thinking awfully hard about it.'

'Alright then,' Jack stopped walking. Mark came to a halt alongside him. 'Dogs.'

Mark blinked. 'Dogs.' he repeated.

'Uh huh.'

'Hm.' Mark looked at Jack through narrowed eyes, a small smirk curving his lips. 'That's not the answer I was expecting.' he admitted.

'It wasn't? Well, there go all my hopes, dreams and expectations.'

'Hey, don't get me wrong, I think about dogs as much as the next person. I actually have a few myself, back at home.'

'Me too.' Jack said, then instantly regretted it. Because now that would mean that Mark would ask him-

'Oh really? I found it hard to leave my dogs, I can only imagine what it's like for you. Hey, how come you left Ireland anyway? If you don't mind my asking, that is.'

Jack's stomach twisted painfully and he turned his face away. _I could tell him that I **do** mind him asking. I could tell him that he should mind his own fucking business. But I don't want to._

There was no way he could tell this guy the truth. He wouldn't stick around for much longer if he knew, Jack was sure of it. But he didn't want to lie to him either. He seemed so friendly and easy to get along with. It'd been a long time since Jack had had someone he could genuinely call a friend, and he wasn't about to ruin that.

After thinking carefully, he decided to tell Mark that he'd moved because his parents had, and that it wasn't really his choice. Not a lie, but not the whole truth either. Enough to stop him from asking any more questions about Ireland, anyway. Instead, Mark focused on asking Jack other questions, such as what he was studying and his taste in video games. They seemed to be Mark's passion, one that Jack shared to a great degree. The further they walked the more Mark asked him. Jack was starting to feel like he was playing a game of twenty questions, but with something more like fifty questions instead. He had never been comfortable speaking about himself too much. It was almost a relief when they arrived at the dorm rooms.

'And here we have it! The West dormitory.' Mark announced in a booming voice. 'Home to a hundred house guests, one of them including yours truly.'

Jack whipped his head around to stare at Mark with wide eyes.

'No way.' he said.

'Way.' Mark replied smugly.

'What block are you?'

'Uh...' Mark reached a hand into the pocket of his jeans, retrieving a crumpled sheet of paper. 'C.'

Jack's breath hitched and he could feel something building deep in his chest. _Get a hold of yourself!_ He hastily chastised. _You've barely known him fifteen minutes. Calm down!_

In a carefully controlled voice, he asked the other boy, 'What room?'

As Mark glanced once more at his sheet of paper, Jack knew the answer already. And as Mark confirmed his suspicions, he couldn't help but let out a small, hysterical laugh.

'What's so funny?' Mark asked, confused.

Jack just handed him his own accommodation letter. As the realisation dawned on the other boy, he slowly looked up at Jack, disbelief in his eyes.

'No way.'

'Way.' Jack echoed Mark's cocky answer from before.

'Dude!' Mark exclaimed, his own smile mirroring Jack's. 'I haven't even asked you your name yet!'

'How many questions have you asked me so far? And _not one_ of them was to ask my name?'

'I don't know, I just forgot, I guess. Whatever!' Mark gave Jack an adorably guilty smile. 'I'm only interested in the accent anyway.'

Jack couldn't help it; he burst out laughing, unable to contain the giddiness any longer. Mark joined in. In the midst of all the hilarity, Jack held out his own hand to Mark, who took it in his and gave it a firm shake.

'My name is Jack,' he said. 'Your new roommate.'

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> How horribly coincidental, eh? That the boy Jack met and who offered to help him turned out to be his roommate? Who would have thought such a thing? hahahahahaha


	3. A Night You'll Never Forget

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Stressed out. Scared to death. Unable to get that boy out of his mind. Jack struggles to deal with his affection for Mark, who's completely oblivious. He wishes to God that he were the one Mark wants instead. But he isn't a girl.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so this is a little cliché, but I wanted to do it anyway.   
> Long story short, Jack wants Mark, Jack gets a little excited on his own, and well... events occur...  
> Smut follows, so beware >:D  
> Also, language warning. Swearies galore!

**Jack lay on his bed, surveying his room. The familiar furniture didn't stand out; it was government issued and he'd seen it all before. Two wardrobes. Two beds. One desk. One chair. It was very simple. What made the room so interesting were the little touches. The subtle differences that would notify a stranger to the presence of two very different people. Posters. Pictures of family. Jack's stack of CD's on the shelf, Mark's game collection taking up a large part of the bookcase.**

**Jack had tried to talk to Mark about his favourite music. He was fascinated with the concept of audio, and every minute of his spare time he spent with earphones in, listening to anything and everything. Mark on the other hand, was not a huge fan of music. He didn't know most of the bands that Jack had mentioned, which disheartened him slightly. His love of games was something they both shared, however. Mark had _everything._**

**It'd been a few weeks since Jack had arrived at the university. At first, he was excited to start a new chapter in his life, to meet new people. To have a roommate. Now? Maybe not so much.**

**It wasn't that Mark was a bad roommate. Jack really enjoyed spending time with him. He was incredibly friendly and endlessly charismatic. Not to mention he had a body that Jack couldn't help sneaking glances at after Mark got out of the shower in the morning. The sight of him in a towel, his wet hair, damp skin...**

**The thought of him sent a jolt straight to the pit of Jack's stomach and he drew in a shaky breath. He shifted his position, his front pressed to the bed in an attempt to mask the feeling. Now was not the time to think about that. Mark could walk in at any minute and Jack wasn't willing to show the other boy the extent of his... affection.  
**

**No, there was another reason why Jack was regretting the living situation. One word, in fact.**

**Girls.**

**The first time it happened was at the end of his first week. It was late, and Jack was still adjusting to the time difference. He was in bed before anyone else most nights. Except one night he wasn't asleep. And when Mark came home... he decided to bring company.**

**Jack had tried to block it out. Discreetly turned up his iPod in an attempt to drown out the breathy moans and the shouts of _'Oh.. M-Mark!'_**

**But it wasn't enough.**

**The next day he couldn't quite look at the other man, who didn't notice Jack's discomfort. Mark was his usual cheery self, if not a little more chipper than usual. He never told Jack why, and Jack never asked. Some things were best left alone.**

**It didn't stop there, either. It had happened at least two more times that Jack had been unfortunately present for. He couldn't have stayed anywhere else. He didn't know anyone else.**

**He was stuck in a room with a boy he couldn't help but stare at.**

**He was stuck in a room with a boy who couldn't help but stare at everyone else.**

******Jack sighed. 'How the fuck am I supposed to live my life like this?' he moaned, punching his pillow. 'I have enough to deal with already.'**

**It was true. He had an important appointment with the professor of his Hotel Management course, Jason Rochester. The young teacher had approached him not long after his last lecture and asked Jack to meet him in order to discuss progress. He'd noticed that Jack often spent a lot of his time with his head in the clouds instead of taking important notes, and he wanted to talk to him about 'his future on the course'.**

**Jack shuddered. He wasn't ready to think about it. Part of the reason why he was actually in college was so that he didn't _have_ to think about what to make of his life back at home. When his parents had told him of their plans to move to America, he was relieved. He wanted to go to a place where he could at least make an attempt at a new start. College was a split second decision. Before he had actually thought about what he wanted to do, his application was in and it was too late. He was accepted. And he was lost.**

**He was fucking terrified about this discussion.**

**That's why he needed the music. It soothed him, made him forget his anxiety and focus instead on the rhythm. This was part of the reason why audio had such an influence on him. It impressed him, made him feel something. It inspired him at his darkest times and allowed him to feel above everything, as though he were floating. Above the pressure. Above his responsibilities. Above his own negativity.**

**It had started when he was much younger and much less aware of the world. His father had introduced him to a wide variety of genres. Classical, rock, heavy metal, rap, pop, jazz, you name it. He was shown it all. Any trip, any time together was spent blasting anything and everything through his dad's speakers.**

**'You'll never hear anything else like this, lad!' his father would shout over the noise. Every time.**

**The tune, the lyrics, God, the _sound_ would just vibrate through Jack and settle, deep within his bones. He craved it. As he grew older, he was always searching. To find a new sound, listen to a new revelation. He had an insatiable appetite, a hungry obsession that was never fully sated.**

**Then he heard Mark's voice.**

**It shattered him. Throaty and lyrical, deep and husky. Musical and magical, and it. Just. _Ruined him_.**

**For someone with a love for audio as fervent and passionate as Jack's? Mark's voice was an... an _aphrodisiac_.**

**Jack's eyes snapped open, glancing around quickly to make sure that Mark hadn't returned during his daydream. Satisfied, he pulled out his earphones and dropped his iPod at his side without bothering to turn it off. He had other things to think about right now. In the midst of reminiscing, he'd managed to... excite himself.**

**A surge of warmth traveled from his stomach down to his groin and he groaned, placing a hand over his growing erection. He looked around again hurriedly. It was a habit. Mark really could walk in at any moment.**

**Jack slipped under the covers of his bed, shuffling out of his too-tight jeans and quietly gasping as the friction rubbed against the skin, sensitive even over his boxers. He grimaced, ashamed. Mark was his friend. His unknowing, unwitting, _straight_ friend. The feelings Jack was experiencing should have been forbidden. But he couldn't help himself.**

**He rubbed his hand over his boxers before sliding it underneath the fabric to grasp his dick. He hissed out a short breath as his cold fingers came into contact with blazing skin, pleasure momentarily disrupted due to his slight discomfort. It wasn't long before his hand had warmed however, and as he ran it over his dick he started to feel a familiar sensation building somewhere within him. Quick strokes, followed by firm, longer pulls coaxed a whimper out of him, and he pushed his face into his pillow to muffle any more cries.**

**His hand was moving rhythmically, keeping time with the thrums of electrical energy crackling through Jack's body. He always thought of it in terms of electricity. It felt more intense to him that way, more vivid. More real. Any time he did something, he felt it like an electric shock.**

**He ran his fingers over his balls, squeezing them gently. The sensation made him bite his lip to stop the muttered oaths from slipping out.**

**The faster he moved, the more he writhed on the bed, until he felt as though his body had dissolved from a solid into an intensely pleasurable liquid. His movements were fluid and familiar. He knew he was going to come soon. _Too fast,_ he thought fleetingly. But he couldn't stop.**

**All he could think of was Mark. His wonderful messy hair that stuck up despite protest, his adorable, glorious smile, his beautiful eyes. And his voice. God, his voice.  
**

**'Oh Jesus. _Fuck_ , mmph-'**

**Jack caught himself on a moan as pleasure coursed through him. He could feel his limbs tensing then relaxing, his muscles shivering. His eyes squeezed shut, but that couldn't stop him from seeing the image of Mark that was burned into his brain as he came with such shuddering force that his back arched off of the bed.**

**_I'm disgusting._ The words flitted across his brain and he sighed, frustrated. In that moment, he hated himself. Lusting behind Mark's back... it seemed wrong.**

**He trailed a hand over his chest in an attempt to capture his forgotten iPod as he slowly came down from the high his orgasm had left him with. Guilt-ridden or not, masturbation always left him in the mood for something thrilling. What should he listen to? The new Panic At The Disco! song? Or maybe something a bit more dubstep to fit the erratic beat of his heart?**

**Unfortunately, he couldn't find it. Empty handed and confused, he opened his eyes and looked around the dimly lit room. He was in the process of getting up out of bed to see if, in all of his ecstasy, he'd knocked his iPod underneath him when he heard footsteps outside. He was filled with icy dread as he heard a shrill voice from behind the door.**

**'Maa-ark!'**

**Panicked horror rushed through him. As fast as he could, he sorted his boxers out, untangled his jeans from his duvet and put them on. Diving into his bed he pulled the covers up and over him just in time to hear a key being thrust unsuccessfully against the lock on the door.**

**'I c'n hear somebody mo-oving!' the voice shrieked. Definitely a girl. Definitely drunk.**

**'That's weird,' Jack heard Mark mumble. 'Usually my roommate's asleep at this time.'**

**'Your roommate? I'm not jus' gonna let you brrrring me back to y-your room so yoouu and your friend can have your w-way with me, y'know.' she slurred.**

**'Relax, I would never do that.' Mark said in a voice that suggested he wasn't in a much better state than his companion. 'I brought you back here because-'**

**At this he managed to get the key to turn and the door swung open. Jack attempted to regulate his breathing, praying that he looked natural. He didn't know why he was still pretending to be asleep. He should have just stayed up and forced Mark to go somewhere else. But he couldn't bring himself to move.**

**Mark let out a small chuckle. 'I was right. I brought you here,' he repeated. 'because we wouldn't be bothered. He's always asleep at this time, the lazy bastard.'**

**Jack knew that Mark didn't mean the half-hearted insult, but couldn't help but feel disappointed.**

**'Don't worry,' Mark continued. 'The man sleeps like a log. We won't be interrupted tonight.'**

**Jack tensed for a second before realising what he was doing. He attempted to relax, trying not to blow his cover. He wasn't sure what Mark would do if he knew that he was awake. He could only imagine that the reaction would not be pleasant.**

**As Mark and the girl tried to find their way through the darkened room, Jack heard a thump as some unseen force jostled his bed, and his iPod fell out from underneath his pillow. A string of cursing started to run through his head. _Goddamnfuckingshitmotherfuckingballs-_**

**'Shit,' Mark hissed. He'd accidentally kicked Jack's bed, and waited for a few tense seconds to see if he'd disturbed the other man.**

**Jack had an opportunity, a chance to get up and act surprised at the presence of a girl, to pretend as though he didn't know what was going on. But he wasted it. Somehow he stayed, stuck in his position on the bed, unable to move.**

**'Hey, he's cute!'**

**The girl's voice rang out, too close to Jack. He almost flinched away from it, but managed to stand his ground. He could feel her presence as she bent down to pick up the fallen iPod.**

**'I wouldn't know.' Mark replied.**

**'Well, he is. '**

**'Yeah, well, he's an odd one, I'll tell you that.'**

**Jack's heart sank a little more.**

**'Can we wake him up so I can do him too?' the girl asked eagerly.**

**'What? _No!_ Anyway, I thought you weren't interested in both 'me and my friend'.' Mark said in a shocked tone.**

**'That's before I knew he was hot!' the girl whined. Jack was horrified. He wished he were somewhere else. He wished he were some _one_ else.**

**'I'm sorry Rebecca, but he's asleep! I'm not just going to wake him up to fulfill some weird fantasy of yours, so forget it.'**

**Jack worked on keeping his breathing deep and even, despite how terrified he was. His heart was hammering so loud in his chest he was surprised they couldn't hear it. His fear only got worse as he felt a strange sensation on his face. He had to stop himself from coughing in revulsion as a mouth suddenly landed on his own. The bitter taste of alcohol invaded his senses, fresh and disgusting on the breath of the intoxicated girl. He desperately tried to stop himself from gagging.**

**'Hey, what are you-' Jack heard Mark start, then an angry gasp and shuffling. The unwanted mouth was wrenched away from him, and he breathed an inward sigh of relief.  
'Stop it!' Mark whispered fiercely. 'What's the matter with you?'**

**'I jus' wanna have a lil' fuuun...' Rebecca mumbled back at him and then started to giggle. Mark sighed.**

**'Just... just leave him alone, alright? He doesn't need to be bothered.'**

**'Alright,' Rebecca agreed absentmindedly. 'Hey, I found this next to his bed.' she added as an afterthought.**

**'It's Jackaboy's iPod. He never goes anywhere without this thing. I'd better keep it safe until tomorrow.'**

**'Ha. Haha. You're kiiiiinda protective over little 'Jack-a-boy'!' Rebecca sang at Mark.**

**'I'm protective over everyone, you know that. Including you.' Mark's voice changed from authoritative to husky. 'Now then, how's about we stop talking about Jack, and we start having that fun you wanted, huh? I've been dying to do this with you all night.'**

**Jack shivered. Even though the words weren't aimed at him, they sent a thrill down his spine. He wished, not for the first time, that he was the object of Mark's affections instead.**

**He clenched his fists as the noises started and tried to silently burrow his face into the duvet. Not again. Not today. He needed to rest. But he knew that wasn't going to be possible with Mark pawing at a girl halfway across the room from him.**

**Miserably, Jack lay and waited for the moans to subside. He wished he still had his iPod. It wouldn't have been so bad if he'd had his earphones. He could have at least attempted to drown out some of the noise. Instead he was forced to sit through the entire torturous thing.**

**He wasn't going to lie; when Mark eventually came, Jack felt a tiny rush of pleasure too.**

**After that the room grew quiet. The girl was fidgety and restless, apparently uncomfortable staying the night in a room with two boys. _Didn't seem to have a problem with it before when she wanted to 'do me too'..._ Jack shuddered.**

**She got up and left not long after Mark feel asleep. After that the only noise was the sound of Mark's quiet, even breaths, and the barely-there beat of music through earphones. Jack thought about getting up to retrieve them, but he didn't want to disturb the other man.**

**He slowly turned around in his bed, facing the sleeping Mark. He swept his eyes over the other man's prone figure. _Christ, he even looks good when he's unconscious,_ Jack thought to himself. Lit by streams of moonlight through the window, one strong arm could be seen curling over the pillow, holding it close. The other was drawn up over his covers in an attempt to conceal his bare chest, which was just visible over the top of the sheet. His face, beautiful and at peace, enraptured Jack. He sat up in bed, staring at Mark for what felt like eternity before realising how creepy he was being.**

**_I can get my iPod in the morning,_ he decided. He was exhausted. He snuck one last glance at Mark, before settling back into bed with a sigh.**

**His last thought before the darkness took over him was that even though he never saw the girl once, even though he didn't know who she was, what she did, anything about her... he hated her. This 'Rebecca', whoever she was- Jack despised her and everything about her. It was irrational, he knew that. It was mean, he knew that too. But he couldn't help it. Because she was always going to be able to have the one thing he couldn't.**

**His roommate.  
**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for how angsty this fic is haha, and I can only say, it's probably just gonna get worse. But I'm having fun writing it. I have an idea for where this is going to go next and things are just getting worse for Jackaboy. Am I ever going to let him get his way? Who knows...  
> Hope you like it x


	4. Day Of Regret

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The morning after that awful night and there's one thing Jack wants to find out. When will Mark talk to him about the girls he's bringing back to their room? All Jack knows is that he still has an important meeting to get to; one he's scared to death of attending. Can Mark help him to face the fear? Or will he just make it worse?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh God, this chapter.  
> It's been annoying me for days. I can't help thinking it's not quite right, but at the same time I also think it's as good as it's going to get.  
> Anyway, as usual, there's a language warning :P  
> I hope you like it!

'Wake up sleepypants!'

The singsong voice cut through Jack's sleep-clouded brain and he slowly opened one eye. He was greeted with the sight of Mark's brilliant grin. The other man was so much like the literal fucking embodiment of the sunshine that it hurt Jack's eyes to look at him. He squinted up at Mark, who continued to smile at him as though he'd won the lottery.

'God, who knew that when I returned to university I'd be 'blessed' with such a lazy roommate? Shame on you, Jackaboy.'

'Fuck off.' Jack grumbled. He was not a morning person, that much was certain. Mark threw back his head and laughed. Jack winced, head sore from his lack of sleep. He squinted up at Mark.

'Did you say sleepy _pants_ before? Cuz... isn't it supposed to be sleepyhead?' he croaked. Mark ran a careless hand through his messy hair, causing it to stick up.

'Who cares? Sleepypants sounded better to me.' He shrugged. 'Down with well known phrases, and all that jazz.'

'Don'tcha think that's kinda contradictory? I'm pretty sure 'all that jazz' is a well known phrase if I ever heard one.'

'Ok, fine, Mr Everything I Ever Say Is Always Right.' Mark stuck his tongue out at Jack, who couldn't help the small smile spreading across his face.

Jack watched Mark from under half-closed eyelids. The other man was aimlessly wandering around the room. Every so often he would stop, pick something up and look at it, summoning a quirky voice to give the inanimate object before putting it down and moving on to something else. He was full of excitable energy, as if he didn't know what to do with himself.

'You're in a good mood.' Jack commented. Of course, he knew why. He just wanted to see whether Mark would tell him. Sooner or later, he would have to talk to him about his night... sessions.

Mark glanced over at him. 'Shouldn't I be? I had a good night. You on the other hand-' he paused, throwing Jack's scruffy old hat at him. 'are an A grade asshole in the morning. What's wrong, little guy? Are you missing home?' he teased.

Jack snorted. 'Not likely.' He stretched and let out a small groan. 'What time is it?'

'Eh... it's 8:38. Kinda early, but all the better reason to be up, am I right? Ha, well, maybe not in your opinion. I always pref-'

'Crap!'

Jack sat up abruptly, eyes wide open and alert.

'What's wrong?' Mark asked, eyebrows furrowed in confusion.

'It's just... I had an appointment with my professor. It's a pretty big deal. I forgot all about it. I literally only have about 20 minutes to spare. It takes 10 minutes on it's own to get to the building itself. Aww, for God's sake!' Jack collapsed back onto his bed and sighed.

'Oh,' said Mark. 'Well, that's no problem. I can take you round in 2. My car's parked just outside.'

Jack looked up at Mark with wide eyes. 'You would do that for me?' he asked slowly, unsure whether Mark was playing a trick on him. Call him paranoid, but he wasn't taking any chances. Insanely inappropriate attraction aside, the whole friend thing was still new to him.

'Of course I will! But you know, you will have to, maybe, uh... _get out of bed, you loser!'_

Jack laughed. 'Shut up, I'm doing it.'

He could practically feel Mark's grin on him as he dragged himself from his bed and shuffled out into the hall, falling into the bathroom. A quick shower and some hastily thrown on clothes later and he was good to go.

As the two of them were exiting the building, Jack inhaled sharply and turned to go back inside.

'What's wrong now?' Mark asked in an exasperated tone.

'My iPod. I need it with me. I can't... I just can't leave without it, alright. I have to- uh, I'm going back for it, ok?' 

As he took a step through the door, he heard Mark calling him back. He spun around to the sight of Mark holding his iPod out to him.

'Wha- where did you pull that from?' Jack asked, holding back an urge to snatch it from the other man.

'It was on the floor last night when I got in. You were asleep, so I picked it up. I made sure to grab it this morning while you were in the shower. I knew you were going to want it, but, you being you, I also knew you were probably going to forget it considering the rush you're in. So I had it in my pocket this whole time. I was gonna give it to you when I dropped you off, but whatever, you can just have it now.'

'I-' Jack began, but couldn't think of a single thing to say. 'Thank you?' he volunteered.

Mark shrugged. 'It's no problem. Like I said, I knew you would want it. I never see you without the thing, so yeah.'

Mark watched as Jack hurriedly stuck an earphone in one ear and switched the device on. Marveling at the look of relief that traveled across his face, he couldn't help but wonder...

'Why is it that you always have it on you, anyway?' he asked curiously.

Jack tensed, surprised at the question. He felt awkward and unsure of what to tell Mark. Taking a moment to think, he settled on the truth.

'It keeps me calm, helps me to think. You know how... uh, I'm trying to think of a way to explain it right without sounding like a total loser. Hmm... ok, think of it like when you're young and you have a security blanket, or a stuffed toy that makes you feel instantly better in stressful situations. Well... this is my security blanket, in a way.' He waved the iPod and gave Mark a small smile. 'I take it everywhere. It's always with me, especially on days I know I'm not going to do so well. I think today is one of those days. It's just, fucking crowds, man. They just...'

He tapped his temple with one finger. A fast beat that matched the tempo of the song blasting in his ear. 'They get to me. The building that my meeting is in is full of students. Like, full as a banana. People everywhere. Yikes.' Jack shivered. The tight, desperate feeling of unease was already coursing through him.

'Oh.' Mark replied. Now it was his turn to feel awkward. 'So... you kinda freak out in social situations or something?'

'No, not really. Not like you think, anyway.' Now Jack was twisting his earphone cord between his fingers, finding it difficult to talk to Mark, finding it difficult to say anything at all about what it was he experienced. _I swear to God I didn't used to be like this,_ he thought sadly. _I used to know exactly what to say. Christ, I used to be able to speak, at least. I was loud. I was rowdy. I. Was. Happy. Now, what am I? Fucking late._

'We need to go.' he said quietly, taking off in the direction of the parking lot and leaving Mark at a loss for words and following after him at half pace.

As he reached Mark's car, he couldn't help but sneak a glance at the other boy as he also came to a halt beside him. Mark was already watching him with a strange look. 'What is it?' Jack asked in a weary tone.

Mark opened his mouth, closed it again, corners of his mouth turned up slightly.

'I really don't have long, you know.' Jack reminded him softly.

'I know, it's just-' Mark broke off with a sigh and ran an impatient hand across his face and through his hair. Messing with his hair was his signature move. He didn't even seem to know that he was doing it half the time.

'I want you to... I wish you would- God, why is this so hard?'

He laughed.

Jack waited.

Silence.

'What?' Jack persisted. He wanted to pry the words from the other boy, to find out what it was he was finding so difficult. But all he could do was wait.

Mark stopped fidgeting and focused his gaze somewhere above Jack's eyebrows, where he proceeded to speak.

'You shouldn't... worry so much. I mean, I guess it's not as easy as that, believe me, I understand that you're uncomfortable around other people. I totally get that. So am I. I'm quite the introvert, I'll tell you that.' Letting out another nervous laugh, he refused to let his eyes wander down towards Jack's own. Refused to let himself see the other man. His admission hung in the air between them.

Finally, Jack scoffed. 'An introvert? You? Not possible.'

He put his hand on the handle of the passenger side, but stopped as another hand came from beside him and caught the end of his sleeve. Slowly, he looked up at Mark, who had finally given in and looked Jack in the eyes, something fragile in his own.

'That's where you're wrong, Jack. Just because I'm popular, just because I go out a lot, just because of all of these things, I am so, so much more comfortable, so much happier being on my own. I can be surrounded by people, each one of them someone I like. But there's always a little, niggling thought in the back of my head, that despite living the dream of being the funny, cool guy with more friends than I can count, I would much rather be on my own, away from all of them. Not all of the time, but enough of the time for it to be a little ... problematic, to say the least.'

Jack stared at Mark in disbelief, before shaking his head and pinching the bridge of his nose. 'You don't get it, do you?' he muttered.

'Get what?'

 _'This!_ The whole, I-know-how-you-feel act! You know what your problem is, Mark? You don't know that you've got a good thing while you have it.' Jack's eyes flashed angrily and he glared at Mark, who stared back with a startled expression. Jack felt a cold lump beginning to build up in his stomach. His thoughts began swirling rapidly, and he started to breath heavily. Red spots appeared at the edge of his vision. He knew what was coming next.

'A lot of people would kill to be in the position that you're in, have the popularity that you have! And here you are saying you want to be alone all the time? _Are you fucking kidding me?_ Why in the hell would you ever want that? Don't you know how it feels to be alone? And I'm not talking about the, alone-in-your-room-after-a-long-day kind of loneliness, because sometimes, that's nice! No, I'm talking about the feeling, that _fucking feeling_ you get when you realise you have nobody. You feel like you're pathetic, you're worthless, you're nothing. Do you even know what that's like? I don't think you do. Let me enlighten you. _It. Fucking. Sucks!'_

Jack abruptly finished, still breathing fast. He hadn't had an outburst like that for a while.

He took a step back from Mark. As the spike of anger drained away he felt the first waves of horror start to leak in and he put a hand over his mouth in shock. He couldn't believe what he'd just said. Well. That was a lie. He could believe it. What he couldn't believe was that he'd said it to _him._

Mark's eyes slowly drained of emotion and he appraised Jack with an unfeeling gaze. The previous fragility was gone, replaced with a hardened barrier. He didn't speak. A sluice of dread shot it's way through Jack's heart. Mark was always talking, always laughing. Now he just looked... empty.

The things Jack had just yelled- he'd definitely went too far.

'Mark?' he said tentatively. 'Shit, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to- I mean I just.. I shouldn't have said that. That was out of order. I don't know why I- my temper hasn't gotten out of control like that for months, I can't believe... please say something Mark, I really, truly am sorry.'

'No worries,' The other man's voice was cool, almost disinterested as he replied to Jack's pleas. 'It's not a problem.'

'Yeah but-'

'I said no worries.' Mark's sharp voice cut through Jack's protest.

'So... we're good then?'

Mark nodded once in acknowledgement, then abruptly left Jack's side to get into the drivers seat. Jack watched his rigid back as the other man walked stiffly away from him. They were so not good.

'I suppose I'd better take you round then.' Mark said, face turned away. His voice was eerily calm. Jack shuddered. 'Like you said, you don't have long.' He got in the car, motioning for Jack to do the same. Hurrying to do as Mark asked, Jack mutely clipped in his seat belt and avoided the gaze of the other man. He needn't have; Mark wasn't looking at him anyway. He wasn't sure whether Mark would ever look at him properly again.

They sat in silence. Jack felt sick.

Had he just ruined his friendship with Mark?

He couldn't bear to think about it.

He couldn't stop thinking about it.

As Mark dropped him off in front of his building, Jack turned around to thank the other boy one last time, but Mark was already pulling away, quickly, without a backwards glance.

Yeah, Jack had definitely ruined it.

Fucking great.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So the thing that bothered me about this is the whole argument thing. The way I did it makes me feel like it was a little rushed. I understand that it all happened quite suddenly, but that's the thing. I kind of wanted it to go like that. This was meant to be a demonstration of Jack's anger issues, which have been a past issue that he has been attempting to suppress. Unfortunately the situation with Mark combined with the stress he feels over the coming meeting and his enochlophobia (fear of crowds) has all been leading up to that moment. When Mark commented (a little carelessly) about how he felt 'the same way' as Jack, it was sort of my way of sending poor Jack over the edge of a cliff he was already hanging off. 
> 
> So yeah, that's kind of my reasoning as to why this chapter is the way it is :)


	5. New Friends and Sad Stories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Drinking comes easy to a guy like Jack. Not a stereotype; a fact. 
> 
> It's the stuff in between that's hard. The people, the stories.
> 
> It's the reasons why someone is driven to drink in the way that Mark does that makes a person start to wonder what's going on in his life.
> 
> Because something is definitely wrong.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING! There are some moments in this chapter that have made me kinda sad to write. So yes. It's not as sad as some I've read, but it might be a little upsetting.
> 
> This chapter is also slightly longer than the others. I might start publishing longer chapters, it depends on whether you like this one or not :)

One. Two. Three.

Jack sat on the bar stool, downing shot after shot. He hadn't had a proper drink in a while. Now was as good a time as any to catch up on what he'd missed.

Four. Five. Six.

He kept going, drinking more and more. Trying to feel something. Trying to stop feeling altogether. Either one, he couldn't decide.

He kept expecting to feel the effects. To feel the sweetness of letting go, of giving in to his urges and ignoring his responsibilities. He was drinking to be drunk. To be unaware, to forget, just for a little while.

It wasn't working. It was like he was numb. No matter how much liquid he was throwing back he couldn't shake the horrible empty feeling in his stomach.

The meeting with his professor had been a mess. The fact that he was late didn't help his case, and Mr Rochester had really ripped into him about his concerns for Jack's future on the course. At one point he threatened to have him kicked off of the course unless he started to pay attention in lectures. It was just an awful part of what had fast become the worst day since he moved.

Not to mention Mark hadn't spoken to him since his outburst. Not really, anyway.

Jack used to always look forward to their conversations. They made him laugh, gave him something to think about other than his own problems. Now there was nothing to look forward to, just the occasional ' _Are you using the desk today?'_ or _'Could you turn down the music?'_

It was infuriating. Jack had apologised, and Mark had said that they were cool, but it was almost like he didn't want to have anything to do with him anymore. Like what Jack had said to him was a repellent. Any time he was close by Mark would recoil, like the thought of even being _next_ to him was...

Jack sighed, looking into the murky depths of the shot glass. He didn't even really know what he was drinking. He didn't really care.

'Why the long face, Jack?'

He jumped, spilling his drink over the edge of the small glass. Glancing up to find the source of the voice, his eyes met with a girl's. Dark hair, dark eyes, dark clothes. Everything about her was shadowed and sombre apart from her mouth, which was curved into a sarcastic smirk.

'Do I know you?' He asked. His tongue felt thick and useless in his mouth.

'I'm Alex. We're in the same class. I sit two rows in front of you.' She raised her eyebrows expectantly.

Jack stared back, attempting to comprehend what she'd just said. _I must be drunker than I thought,_ he mused. 'Yeah, ok.' he replied slowly. 'So you know who I am. How exactly?'

'Professor Rochester likes to call your name a lot. Everyone knows who you are. The Irish guy with a music fetish, am I right?' She grinned at him. He grimaced back.

'Ok, that's a terrifying thought.' He signalled for two more drinks. 'Not the music fetish thing, don't give me that look. You said everyone knows who I am? Does that mean that they've been talking about me?'

'They haven't been saying anything bad, if that's any consolation.'

'That's a yes, isn't it?'

'Yeah.'

'Great.' Jack exhaled a sharp breath and grabbed his new drink.

'How are you not passed out on the floor right now? I've seen how much you've been drinking. It must be true what they say about Irishmen and alcohol, hm?' Alex quipped, wide eyed.

'Must be.' He agreed half-heartedly. He didn't bother to ask her exactly _how_ long she had been watching him.

She surveyed him for another few minutes before speaking again.

'Don't worry. Like I said, nobody's saying anything bad about you. They just think you're interesting, you know? You're different to what they'e used to, being from a different country and all. Not to mention, you're also quite a catch.'

Jack spluttered, coughing into his drink. 'I... _Excuse_ m-me?' He stammered.

'All the girls have had their eye on you from the beginning, dude. Come on, don't tell me you didn't know! Everyone's desperate to know the story of the mysterious guy who gets lost in imagination-land every lesson.'

'Including you?'

'Heck no. I already know the story.'

'Oh you do, do you? Care to enlighten me?'

'What would be the fun in that? I'd just be telling you something you already know.' She gave a roguish grin.

Maybe it was the atmosphere, maybe it was the alcohol. Whatever it was, Jack felt himself warming. A strange, fuzzy feeling replaced the numbness and he laughed.

He wasn't drunk like he intended to be. But he did, in a strange way, feel better than he had in days.

'You can tell the girls that I'm not interested. I have other things to worry about right now.'

'Too bad. A couple of them seem pretty keen.'

Alex smiled, and Jack was struck by how... _sad_ she seemed. She hid it well, but it was definitely there. She was sorrowful in the strangest way. Through the shine in her eyes, the faint quirk at the corner of her mouth. She expressed her emotion through her body, barely perceivable to those who hadn't experienced that kind of unhappiness, but for someone like Jack? Her true feelings were as easily read as an open book.

'Are you ok?' He whispered. A flash of surprise appeared in her eyes, followed by a knowing look. Smiling her sad, crooked smile, she leaned in close to his ear.

'Are _you_?'

He snorted and diverted his attention back to his drink. Downing it in one, he winced and motioned for her to take a seat next to him. She shook her head.

'I would, but I should really be going soon. I only came over to introduce myself to you, ya sexy beast.' She took his other shot off of the bar and downed it while he watched.

'Rude.' He joked halfheartedly, taken aback by her friendly flirting.

'Oh, I'm sorry. Can I have this drink, please?' She waved the empty glass.

'I think you've had enough, young lady. One is the cut-off point.'

'You can talk!' They both cracked up, leaving Jack with a warm glow. Everything seemed a little better when he had someone to joke with.

'I'll see you tomorrow, Irish. Or maybe I won't. Depends on if you keep drowning your sorrows!'

The last comment was said in a teasing manner, though Jack couldn't help but think she was only half joking. He watched as she bounded away, stopped to tap someone on the back, and ran in the opposite direction as the victim glanced around in confusion. Jack snorted again, turning back to face the bar.

He was barely alone for two minutes before he noticed the presence of another beside him.

'Can I help you?' He asked politely, staring up at the man.

'Actually, yeah.' The guy said, giving Jack a tense smile. 'You're Jack, right?'

 _Why does everyone know my name?_ Jack groaned internally. 'Ye-es?' He answered warily.

The other was relieved. 'Oh, good. I thought it was you. I recognised you from the first day.'

Jack must have looked confused, as the guy explained further.

'I'm a friend of Mark's. We met on the first day of college? Well, I say met. I saw you for all of five minutes before Mark dragged you off. I never even introduced myself. My name's Bob, by the way.'

Jack stared at Bob, thinking back to that first day. He thought the guy had looked a little familiar. He had been a part of the group that he'd approached asking for directions. One of Mark's friends. A friend. Of Mark's.  _Shit._

Bob continued. 'Anyway, yeah, so we're all here today, Mark as well. I'm not sure if you knew that...? And I was wondering if you could do me a huge favour and help get Mark back to your guys' room? I understand you guys haven't really been talking much but I honestly need your help here, buddy. I don't know where your dorm room is. None of us do.' Bob sighed in frustration. 'I know we don't know each other well, but if you could please just help me with this then I'll owe you, big time. Are you alright to do it?

Jack's mind was whirling and he tried to collect his thoughts. 'Hang on. First things first- Is Mark alright?'

'Hmm? Oh, yeah yeah, he's fine.' Bob answered too quickly, and winced. 'Well, I say fine... he's drunk. Like, on the floor, bawling his eyes out drunk. It's actually a little worrying. I know that I'm his friend but I don't know what the hell to do. The only thing I can think of that might help is if he goes home and sleeps it off, y'know?'

Jack nodded. 'I understand,' He said, before attempting to get up off of the bar stool. Losing his balance, he thrust his hand out to hold on to Bob in an attempt to steady himself. Bob put his own hand on Jack's shoulder, looking concerned.

'Are you sure you want to do this, Jack? I couldn't help but notice you've had quite a bit to drink yourself. No hard feelings if you're not up to it, buddy.'

Jack barked out a short laugh. 'Why does everyone keep mentioning how much _I've_ had to drink? For Christ's sake, I can handle a bit of alcohol. Don't worry about me, man. Right now it's just Mark we need to take care of.'

'Alright then. Thank you.' Bob was grateful as he let go of Jack. 'Follow me.'

Trailing after him, Jack rounded the corner and headed to an alcoved area near the back of the bar. Right enough, there was Mark on the floor, leaning against one of his friends legs. He wasn't crying, as Bob had said. In fact, he was feverishly ecstatic, talking animatedly around his slur and laughing raucously at his own incomprehensible jokes. His friends laughed alongside him, but it was hushed, and each of them had a look of unease about them.

 _Some friends, not even offering him a hand up._ Jack thought, watching the groups growing discomfort.

'Hey Mark, look who it is! I just ran into your friend, Jack, at the bar.' Bob said loudly. Jack cringed. Despite his desire to help the drunk man, he wasn't sure how Mark would react to his being there. He braced himself, waiting for the icy dismissal.

'Jaaa-aack!'

Jack stumbled as Mark's entire weight crashed into him. He grabbed him in a tight embrace and burrowed his face into Jack's shoulder. Jack put his own arms around Mark's body out of reflex, attempting to support them both before they fell over from the impact. His eyes widened in surprise and he blushed at the instant warmth brought about from the sudden contact.

'I've m-missed ya, Jacky! Where've yooouu been, you naughty bo-oy?' Mark mumbled against his ear, before laughing giddily. Jack tried not to think about how cute the slight stutter was. He patted Mark on the back and gently removed the strong arms from around his waist.

'We haven't spent a lot of time together for the past few days, Mark. Did you forget that you were mad at me?'

'I was _m-mad_ at youu? Nah, we're cooool. Cool as... as... _cucumbers_! Cucumbers, that's th' word! Hah!' Mark let out another burst of fast laughter before clapping a hand over his mouth and stepping back. He looked hysterical. His eyes were bright and almost manic, and his grin was watery and faltering.

Jack looked at the guys sitting at the table. _What's wrong with him?_ He mouthed at them, as Mark looked around, out of it. Some of them just shrugged, appearing just as confused as Jack. The others looked away, unable to answer him.

Jack glanced back at Mark, who was swaying where he stood, humming an off-key tune similar to the song playing over the background speakers.

'It looks like you're right.' He said to Bob, who nodded sadly. 'He really needs to go home. I'll take him now, don't worry.'

'Did you s-say we're going home?' Mark asked brightly. 'Oh, good! I-I'm pretty tired actually...'

'Yeah, man, come with me. I'll take you back.'

'Alright.' Mark sighed, resigned. 'I'm going to go t' the b-bathroom first.' He staggered round the corner and out of view. Jack turned back to the group, glaring at them.

'What the hell have you done to him?' He demanded, leveling his cold stare on each of them in turn.

'Us? Why do you think we did anything?' One of the guys retorted, staring back defiantly.

'Well, maybe you didn't do anything _to_ him. But you sure as fuck never did anything to stop him from getting into this state in the first place! What's _wrong_ with you guys? Couldn't you see how far gone he was?'

The guy who replied before moved suddenly, as though he were about to get up and punch Jack in the face. 'You don't know what you're talking about, you son of a bitch!'

Jack flinched and braced himself, but the attack never came. Another guy was standing in between them, holding an arm out to stop the other boy from leaping across the table.

'Dude, Jack's right. We should have stopped Mark. He's doing us a favour by helping him get back home. Be nice. He's just looking out for his friend. _Our_ friend. Ok?'

The aggressive guy slowly sat back down to show that he wasn't going to cause any trouble. The man standing between them breathed a sigh of relief and looked down at Jack. 'I'm Wade,' he introduced himself. He held out a hand to Jack, who shook it quickly. 'And you're right. Sometimes we are very crappy friends.'

'Thanks for helping out, Wade.' Bob faced Jack, a strange look in his eyes. 'You ok to leave now? Mark will be getting antsy.' He asked him. As if on cue, they heard Mark shout.

'Jackaboy! I t-thought ya said we were leaving?'

'Yeah, Mark, I'll be there in a sec.' He sighed. 'Thanks for coming to get me, Bob. But seriously, next time you guys go out... just keep a better eye on him, alright?'

'We will.' Bob agreed, while Wade nodded reassuringly. Jack said his goodbyes and rounded the corner, finding Mark reading the special offers board.

'Oh, hey there J-Jack! Did yoou know th' bar did lasagne? I didn't know that. Man, I could really go fo-or some la-la-lasagne right now...'

'Maybe some other time, Mark. Right now we should probably just leave.'

Jack put his arm around Mark's shoulders, guiding him towards the door. Mark went along willingly, stopping only to point out things he thought were cool along the way.

'Woah, look a' that m-man's hat!'

'I wish I had another drink.' Jack murmured.

'Jack! We should tooootally sing some karaoke!'

'Not a chance, Mark.' As they exited the building and walked down the street, it started to rain. Mark came to a slow halt, looking up into the sky. He closed his eyes and let the raindrops fall on his face. Jack sighed and let go of him, frustrated. 'Mark, what is wrong with you? Why are you acting like this, so... messed up? I've never seen you like this before. What's happening?'

'I... ' Mark opened his eyes and stood there with a dazed expression on his face. 'I- I don't know.' He looked at Jack, really looked at him, for the first time since before their fall out a few days ago.

'I don't know what I'm doing anymore, Jack.'

Jack watched him, silent. His previous annoyance drained away, replaced instead by a tense, tight feeling of worry. Mark's eyes welled up with tears once again and Jack's breath caught. Sniffing and looking away, Mark attempted to get himself under control before he tried to speak again.

'I'm not ok right now.' He whispered, unable to stop a tear from trailing down his cheek. 'Not at all.'

Jack took a step towards Mark, his hands outstretched to touch his arm, his hair, his face. Attempting to comfort him. Anything to get him to stop crying.

But his touch just made the tears come faster, more insistent, and Mark started to cry properly, shoulders shaking with exertion.

'What's wrong?' Jack breathed, dreading the answer. 'What's happened?'

Mark sank to his knees on the sidewalk with his head in his hands, sobbing in earnest.

Jack put his arms around him, holding him tightly. At first Mark resisted, but after a little while he gave up and threw his own arms around Jack's wiry body just as he had earlier on. His whispered words sent an icy shock through Jack's veins.

'It's my... It's my dad. He's dead. Oh God, he's _dead_ , Jack.'

He burrowed into Jack's neck and held on for dear life, shaking and crying uncontrollably.

'Jesus Christ. I'm sorry. I'm so fucking sorry.' Jack repeated, over and over again.

All he could do was hold on to the devastated Mark, and wait for his fitful cries to cease.

All he could do was hold on, and wait for the world to feel right again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. I didn't want to end on that note but I thought the chapter was too long anyway, so it will be continuing onto the next chapter.
> 
> If you have any questions or concerns, please feel free to ask me in the comments. 
> 
> I hope you're enjoying my story and, sincerely, from the bottom of my heart, thank you for reading.


	6. Silent Beatings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jack's self depreciation is really starting to get on Mark's nerves.  
> He just can't see the worth he has.  
> But Mark does. Finally, after all this time. Mark sees him.  
> But it still isn't good enough. It isn't the way Jack wants it.  
> But Mark is insistent.  
> Jack must tell him the REAL reason why he moved to America.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woah, boy. This is a very long one. soz m8  
> But seriously, this took absolutely forever to write.  
> I've been away for a while, but this story has still been on my mind. I feel unsatisfied. I need to finish it, or else I'll literally eat someone. ANywAy  
> I hope you enjoy it :)

_Oh God._

Jack's head was pounding, mouth was dry, eyelids were stuck together. He felt disgusting. All that drinking the night before had been a terrible idea. 'Never AGAIN...' he croaked sarcastically. The age-old promise of the morning after. 'Yeah, not likely.' he murmured to himself, prising his eyelids open then instantly wincing at the bright sunlight spilling through the gap between the curtains.

Fumbling at the desk next to the bed, he picked up his phone to check the time. 10:27. Fucking great. Professor Rochester's concerns for his future on his course were becoming more solid every day.

Glancing across the room, he let out a small huff of regret as he saw Mark was already gone. He didn't know why he was so disappointed. Of course Mark had left already. He had classes too.

'I'm an idiot.' He whispered. Self-depreciation often made him feel worse, but today it was a comfort to know that some things still made sense to him. What he couldn't make sense of was what the _fuck_ had happened last night.

He lay his spinning head back on the pillow and let out a sigh. And what a night it had been. After Mark's revelation outside the bar he'd gone on to tell Jack that it was actually the _anniversary_ of his dad's death, which had happened last year while Mark was still a freshman. It had been sudden and devastating for him, and even now, the pain of losing a man he looked up to more than God affected Mark every day.

Pretty soon after he explained it all to Jack, Mark calmed down significantly. He even fucking apologised for the outburst. The whole exchange turned oddly...formal. Despite Jack's reassurance that he was totally fine with the display of emotion, Mark was adamant he no longer wanted to talk about it.

 _Frustrating_. Even when suffering, Mark was still stubborn. The strength he displayed through his acceptance of the tragic circumstance of his father passing away was something that Jack couldn't even fathom. He didn't know what he would do if he was in the same situation. He certainly wouldn't have been able to regain his composure the way that Mark had.

After that it had just been a matter of attempting to get back to their dorm room without contracting any serious injuries. Even though Jack was supposed to be escorting Mark home, it was him who ended up needing most of the support to save him from falling over. Turned out he'd underestimated how far on the drunk scale he really was.

When they eventually stumbled through the door to their dorm room, Jack couldn't help taking cursory glances at Mark's face. The tear stained redness had disappeared, and he was left with a wistful expression that Jack had trouble deciphering. He gave up trying. Secrets concealed within faces was something that he'd had personal experience with, and he knew fine well how irritating it was when people tried to guess how you were feeling rather than ask.

He tapped Mark on the back, ever so softly. When the other man turned to him, Jack's question died in his throat.

Mark already knew what he was planning to say. He shook his head. 'No Jack. No, I'm not alright. But I'll manage.' He gave a half-hearted, empty smile. Jack couldn't help but watch him as he silently got into his bed and turned to face the wall with no further acknowledgement of the night's events.

No further acknowledgement of Jack's existence.

As Jack got into his own bed, he began to think about how Mark had sobered up incredibly quickly, so much so that he couldn't help wondering whether he was really that drunk in the first place. Maybe the whole act at the bar was just that- an act. A carefully constructed scheme that enabled Mark to make an escape without also making too much of a scene in front of his friends.

On the other hand, that was fairly unlikely. If Mark had wanted to avoid a scene then his plan sure as shit backfired, not to mention that normal people didn't tend to operate under 'carefully constructed schemes' anyway. Jack's alcohol-addled brain was just making up elaborate explanations in an attempt to understand what he'd witnessed- there was no way Mark could have planned that entire thing, especially not the way it had happened.

 _Just being paranoid. Again._ He really needed to stop doing that. This was a situation that had absolutely nothing to do with him yet he couldn't help but bring his own selfish thoughts into the mix. 'I really am an awful person.' He spat vehemently, cursing himself for attempting to turn a friends tragedy into his own personal problem.

'On the contrary, I'd say you're pretty great. As people go.'

Jack snapped his head towards the door. Leaning against the frame with his arms crossed was Mark, apparaising him with a serious look. He was fully dressed, but Jack could tell by the slicked-back hair that Mark wasn't long out of the shower. His eyes followed a droplet of water as it travelled, from Mark's temple, all the way down his cheek and along his neck before disappearing  beneath his slightly damp collar. All the while he struggled to comprehend the sudden compliment.

'How long have you been standing there?' He croaked, then grimaced. His throat had definitely seen better days.

'Long enough to see that you think far too little of yourself. Why do you do that?'

'Do what?'

Mark cast his eyes downward. 'Why do you insult yourself like that?'

Jack blinked. 'I... don't know.' He admitted. Mark shook his head slightly, shooting him an incredulous look.

'You do it all the time.' His tone was accusing. Jack began to feel sick.

'I-I... honestly I just.. umm- excuse me, I need to...' Jack stumbled to his feet, stammering almost incoherently as the worst part of the hangover started to kick in and he felt his body begin to reject all the shit he'd dumped into it just a few hours earlier.

He bolted to the door, squeezing through the gap between it and Mark and launched himself into the bathroom. He stayed there until the the contents of his stomach had been successfully emptied. Wiping a shaking hand across his mouth in disgust, he stood up and chastised himself yet again for getting into the state he was in.

Before leaving the small room he made sure to brush his teeth twice. _Wasting time._

He half expected Mark to have left again by the time he got back to the room, but sure enough, there he was. On Jack's bed, waiting patiently.

Jack swallowed, before hesitantly walking in and sitting down beside him. Neither spoke, though Mark kept his eyes focused on Jack the entire time.

After 5 minutes of silence had passed Mark cleared his throat, causing Jack to jump. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Mark, once again, give a small shake of his head.

'You don't have to be so on edge. It's just me.' Mark said softly.

'I can't help it.' Jack murmured.

'But why, Jackaboy?' Mark gave a small, empty laugh. 'Why are you so...'

Jack turned to him. His eyes connected with the other man's and they both stared at one another. Jack fought to regain the breath that he never realised he'd stopped taking. For a fraction of a second Jack's eyes flicked over Mark's mouth.

_No._

'So what?' Focusing his gaze somewhere above Mark's left eyebrow, Jack's own eyebrows drew together and he hugged his arms tighter around himself.

Mark blew out a harsh breath. 'Don't play fucking dumb with me, Jack! You _know_ what I mean! You walk around like someone's trying to hunt you down. You're so... scared. All the God. Damn. Time. And it worries me, man. No, it fucking petrifies me! What is it that terrifies you so much that you can't even talk to me about it?'

Jack's breath caught in his throat, and heat began to prickle at the corners of his eyes. He furiously wiped at them in an attempt to stop the outburst before it began.

Mark watched him. Opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. 'You know, last night I told you something that I haven't spoken to anyone about. I mean, some of my friends knew about it, but I haven't talked to them. Not really. But, when you asked me outside the bar... I couldn't help it, Jack. I had to tell you. And you know what, it actually made me feel a little better. I just wish you could... feel a little better too. I've noticed. You-You're not very happy, are you?' The last sentence was spoken as a whisper.

Still, Jack said nothing.

He couldn't tell him. He couldn't explain how Mark's face was consistently on his mind, morning and night. He couldn't describe how Mark's voice gave him shivers unlike any piece of music he'd ever listened to. He couldn't tell him how much he wished he wasn't himself so he wouldn't have to go through the torment of never being able to be with him.

'I can't... I don't know how to...' His faltering voice broke and he stopped, meeting Mark's concerned gaze with his own. He was finding it difficult to register what was happening. A hand  on his shoulder, warm and solid. His hands, clenching. Unclenching. Mark's eyes. Mark voice. Mark. Always Mark.

'Please,' He whispered. 'Please don't make me tell you how much I- Not yet. I need a minute. I need to...'

'Jesus Jack. God. Ok. Ok.' The hand on Jack's shoulder tightened, and then he felt himself being drawn forward into Mark's embrace. They were pressed so tightly together that the rumble of Mark's voice travelled through Jack. He repeated the word 'Ok', rhythmically, forcing Jack to regulate his breathing.

 _Just calm down_ , he told himself, as shudders coursed their way through his body. _Keep breathing._

As his heart began to slow and his breathing became more even, he couldn't help but wish it would last a little longer. Just a little while, so he could have Mark's strong arms around him some more.

He was the one to retract himself from Mark's arms, clearing his throat as he did. For a split second he swore he saw disappointment in the others eyes. But no. Mark copied Jack and drew himself away, just a fraction.

'Better?' He asked lightly. Jack nodded.

'Do you usually grab a hold of all your friends until they stop freaking out or is that just a Jack-exclusive?' The joke was weak and they both knew it, but Mark laughed anyway.

'That was a definite first.' Mark's smile was warm, and Jack discreetly pinched his leg just to make sure that what had happened had actually happened.

Oh God. It was real. He really had just freaked out for absolutely no reason whatsoever. And Mark had comforted him. 'Jesus Christ.' he muttered.

Maybe he could... rather than tell him about his feelings, he could... _Oh._

'I- Ok Mark. If I tell you something about myself, will you promise not to, like,  run away and never return?'

Mark's smile grew uneasy but he let out another small laugh. 'Alright. So it's something illegal?'

Jack met Mark's joking eyes. 'Well...'

He watched as all attempts at humor evaporated from the other boys eyes.

'The first day we met, you asked me why I moved here. Do you remember?' At Mark's nod Jack continued. He suddenly felt surprisingly calm. 'I told you it was because my parents moved, yeah? Well, that's true.'

Confusion. 'O-ok.' Mark said, unsure of where Jack was going.

'But it also isn't true at all. I never came here _just_ because my parents moved. I came here because there was... because I-' He scrubbed a hand through his hair and sighed in frustration. Mark waited patiently.

'We moved because of me. Because I- God, I'm a fucking _mess_. Because I did something.'

'What did you do, Jack?' Mark's voice was soothing. Calm. Expectant.

'When I was younger... I never felt any different to anyone else, you know?' His change of subject was unexpected. He could tell Mark was growing a little impatient. 'No, wait. There's a point to this, I promise.' He reassured the other man, who nodded and motioned for him to go on.

He knew he was dragging this out longer than he should have been. But he could barely bring himself to say it.  

'Ok. I was just a fucking kid. I liked spiderman. I loved music. Generic stuff. I thought I was just me. And everyone else was just them. Everyone just, was. And that was ok. I could accept that, when I was younger. But then, growing up, everything changes. You know. You were a kid once. You've seen how everything goes to shit a few years down the line. I started to get comments. Not too bad, at first. Just the occasional insult, the odd joke aimed in my direction. That's normal. But then it started becoming... I don't know. More. Pretty soon everyone was in on the joke except for me. It took me a little while to realise that I _was_ the joke. But yeah, all throughout my life. Dickheads, bellends, tossers. People who talk to me like I'm worse than fucking dirt then sit back and watch as it becomes harder to for me to breath with every word.  Fast forward a few years-'  Breathing out a tense breath, Jack glanced at Mark. Transfixed by Jack's words, Mark stared back at him in silence, eyebrows drawn together as he processed the story.

'Ahem. Fast forward into Secondary- you know, high school,' He dismissively waved a hand at the correction. 'It was the absolute worst fucking time of my life. People couldn't let me... be, anymore. I was a punching bag, a drawing board, a guinea pig. Anything that people wanted to do to me they did. And I let them. And all that time I would just wait. Miserably and silently, I would just wait for the next insult to come my way, the next beating to happen. Until one day.'

It had been in his last year of school. Only a few more months until he was free of the god-forsaken place forever. He was in the hallway, trying to get into his locker before Steven's crew could get out of R.E. to torment him. Struggling with the lock, he jumped as he heard a voice behind him.

'Sean.'  

Spinning around to see who was addressing him, he breathed a sigh of relief. It was just Ben. While he wasn't friends with Ben, he had never gotten any abuse from him in the past. No insults, no pain. Nothing. He was one of the few who stayed away from that crew.

'What is it?' He asked warily, unsure of the sudden approach. While Ben may never have done anything to him personally, he couldn't help but be suspicious of anyone who spoke to him.

'Um.' The other boy seemed at a loss for words, flustered and fumbling for something to say and failing miserably. Jack watched, surprised, as Ben removed his glasses and rubbed at his eyes. He'd never seen anyone act this way at the prospect of talking to him before. 'I was just... I wanted to tell you that I- I want to meet up with you after, uh, school? I think that we have a lot in common. You know.' Ben waved his hand, unable to look Jack in the eyes. His face was red.

'I don't understa-' Jack began, but was cut off.

'I just, I want to hang out with you. I mean. I think you and I... You're gay, aren't you?'

All the breath left Jack's body and he stared at the other boy in shock. Taking a quick glance around to make sure they hadn't been overheard, he leaned closer to Ben.

'I don't- why would you think... is this a fucking _joke?'_ He glared at the other furiously, who blushed and looked away.

'No, I just. Umm.' Seeming to realise that they were in the middle of a corridor with lots of people, Ben stopped.

'You just...?' Jack motioned for Ben to continue.

'Come with me.' The boy muttered. He attempted to grasp Jack's sleeve, who pushed him away. 'Sean, please.' When Ben got a hold of his sleeve this time Jack reluctantly trailed after him, shooting glances around them. 'Fucking hell,' he whispered, as they passed people who stared back with surprised expressions. This was going to come back to bite him in the ass later on. By the time they reached their destination- a bathroom in a secluded corner of the school, Jack was beginning to feel uncertain.

Ben drew them both into the bathroom, checking quickly to make sure there was nobody else in there before turning his gaze back to Jack.

'Ok, Ben, what the hell is this? Are you going to tell me what the fuck is go-mmph!'

All of a sudden Ben's mouth was on his, unexpected and warm against Jacks. Wrenching away, Jack gave Ben a shocked look. The other boy leant back against one of the cubicles, breathing heavily.  

'Why did you...' Jack began, running his fingers over his lips. They felt prickly.

'I couldn't stop myself.' Ben admitted quietly.

'I...' Jack was finding it incredibly difficult to finish his sentences. His own eyes moved back down to Ben's mouth, who's breathing quickened. 'But I'm not...'

No. He couldn't deny it. Not anymore. Of all the insults that had ever been thrown his way by the dickheads in the school, the one that always hit close to home was _'faggot'_. He'd told himself time after time that it meant nothing, just like all the other hurtful words. But he could never convince himself to let that one go.

'Oh, _fuck it._ ' Taking a stride forward he grabbed Ben's face and landed his mouth directly on his. Ben flinched, but almost instantaneously began to respond, opening his mouth and sliding his tongue in, coaxing Jack to do the same. It was warm and wet and... _exciting_.

Ben's hands fumbled down over Jack's chest, his stomach, under his shirt. The touch made Jack shiver with anticipation and he ran his hands through Ben's scruffy hair. He smelled good. He tasted good. His lips were softer than Jack had expected them to be.

Ben's mouth left Jack's and he began a trail of kisses across his neck. Jack's head fell back slightly and he moaned softly. 'God.' He shivered, moving one hand down over his tight trousers. A hand grasped his and he looked down into Ben's eyes.

Licking his lips, Ben brought his mouth up to Jack's ear. 'Let me, Sean. Let me.' He whispered hoarsely.

Jack stared at him, his pulse jumping in his throat. He swallowed. Closed his eyes. Nodded.

His head didn't just fall back this time. Ben touched him in such a way that Jack's head hit off the wall behind him. Twice. He barely even noticed.

His brain registered that things were going far too quickly, but he couldn't bring himself to stop the other boy as he was brought over the edge.

'Jesus Christ. Jesus fucking Christ, Oh-' He came suddenly, and he had to hold onto Ben's shoulder to save his knees from buckling. Both of them were breathing heavily, and Jack opened his eyes to look directly at Ben. His expression turned from one of bliss to confusion. Ben was staring back at him, a mixture of disgust and regret in his eyes. He took a step back from Jack, turned towards the bathroom sink and began to wash his hands in a frenzied manner.

'Ben?' Jack asked, uncertain. The boy ignored him. 'Are you-'

'Did you get that?' Ben's voice rang out, strained and loud. 'Please tell me you did.'

'I-what?' Jack struggled to catch his breath, attempting to sort out his trousers.

'Steven! Come on man. Where are you?'

'Right here, dude!' All of a sudden another boy burst out from one of the cubicles, holding a phone up to Jack's face. 'Smile for the camera, bitch!' Jack gasped, looking back and forth between both Steven and Ben. Ben kept his gaze averted, looking vaguely disturbed, whereas Steven's face was warped into a twisted grin as he continued to film Jack.

'That was so good, man! Way to take one for the team. I know you didn't wanna do it at first, but, bravo. Ever considered a career as an actor?' He complimented Ben, holding up a hand for a high five. Ben ignored him. Shrugging, he turned back towards Jack. 'So, Sean! Have a thing for boys do you? I always knew, but man, you just confirmed everyone's suspicions now, didn't you? I mean, not to be rude or anything, but-' Steven let out some high-pitched moans. 'You were absolutely _loving it_ , you filthy fag. Poor Ben here looked like he was about to be sick. You should see it for yourself. Don't worry. I'm sure everyone will see it soon enough. Anything you wanted to add, sicko?'

Jack's stomach was swirling with icy dread. Unable to speak he just gaped at Steven, wondering why of all the people in the world, they'd chosen him to be their target so many years ago.

Steven laughed cruelly at his frozen expression, turning the phone so the camera faced him instead. 'You guys saw how much he was gasping for it, didn't you? I mean, how fast was it over and done with? I think it was his first time, the poor baby.Oh, hang on. I think baby's about to say his first words!'

'Steven.' Jack's voice was shaking with rage.

'Yeah, fag?' Steven's laughter rang out, harsh against the ringing in Jack's ears.

Jack's vision blurred and distorted to the point where the boy in front of him was no longer a human being. Instead he was transformed into a demon, hellbent on breaking him down and making him go completely mad. Jack's hands clenched, and his eyes focused on the savage face of the beast in front of him.

'Ah, nope, cat's got his tongue. No worries. I'll be sure to make him- oomph!'

If anyone were to watch the video that Steven had made, what they would have seen was an outburst long expected. An attack that had been waiting to come for months- no, _years_. What they would have seen was Steven's camera being drove into his face. The blood pouring from his nose, his mouth. The smash as the phone was dropped on the hard tile floor. The fragments of sound from the still-recording camera as Jack kicked Steven so hard he felt as though his own leg was going to break. They would have seen Ben, attempting to hit Jack away from Steven, then thrown back against the floor as Jack attacked him too. Viscious. Out for blood. What they would have seen was revenge for the years of torment, and for the uncalled betrayal from a boy who he thought he was safe with. And the last thing that would have been seen, if that video had ever seen the light of day, would have been Jack's foot, driving down with such a force on top of the phone that it shattered into pieces.

The video never did get released. And Jack was never allowed back in that school again.

Charged with accounts of minor assault by his local law enforcement, Jack was confined to his home for the extent of what was left to finish of his education. He was kicked out of school, only allowed back to complete his exams in isolation from the rest of his classmates.

The school board put his expulsion down to his outburst of violence. What they failed to mention in the report was the strict catholic rules that governed the school, the lack of acceptance for anything prohibited in the bible. Ben's confession to the school explained how he had been tempted by 'Sean McLoughlin's sinful ways'. Their punishment for him was repentance. Their punishment for Jack? Extradition.

The real reason as to why Jack was thrown out was an unspoken prejudice that would continue to persecute him until the day he told his father he couldn't take it anymore. He finished his exams, completed his terms of house arrest, and applied for college somewhere far, far away.

Word spread around the town that 'The Mcloughlin's son's a queer'. Almost every day people would come by his house. Jeering, throwing rocks. Members of the local church would come by and spit at the ground outside the house, condemning him to an eternity in hell. Steven's friends came by a lot, leaving threatening messages and shouting at the windows. It was sickening.

His father was disappointed. Jack could tell he wished to God that his son hadn't turned out the way he had. Jack's mother cried a lot. Some days he thought she couldn't even bear to look at him. He'd not only managed to successfully ruin his own life. He'd ruined theirs too.

They left for America the next month.

Jack's acceptance into the college was a promise of a new future that he needed to get over the events that plagued his life for all too long. It was a chance for him to move on from the events that had caused his paranoia, his distrust of other people, his anxiety, even his enochlophobia.

Everything that defined Jack as the person he was now could be put down to the suffering that he had endured.

Of course, when telling this story to Mark, Jack neglected to include the all important, defining factor that actually caused the problem. His version to Mark, while based on truth, still held elements of fabrication. He couldn't bring himself to explain to him that the reason why he'd been expelled was down to his own broken self. His flawed sexuality.

Instead he told a version where Ben was simply Steven's accomplice. No mention of the truth of his involvement.

'So yeah. That's pretty much it. That's why I'm so on fucking edge all the time, Mark. I was beaten, broken, and betrayed to the point where I couldn't take it anymore. I snapped. And I fucking hurt that bastard. The way he hurt me, over all those years. I broke his nose, two of his ribs, probably more but I can't remember. His friend, Ben? I gave him a concussion that landed him in the hospital. I was arrested, kicked out of school, and then practically forced out of the country by the locals, who thought _I_ was the thug. Even though I was the one who came home with bruises every. _Fucking. Day._ For _years_!' Jack yelled.

His hands were clenched so tightly that his short nails had cut into his palms. His eyes were manic and unfocused. His breathing was shallow. He was falling apart.

Then, out of nowhere, a hand came and placed itself tentatively on top of one of his fists. Jack looked over at Mark. He had tears on his face. He wasn't looking at Jack's face. Instead, he watched as Jack's hand slowly unclenched and slid into his own.

'Twice in two days.' Jack murmured in awe, abandoning his anger in favour of staring at the droplets as they followed the strong lines of Mark's face. He reached out his other hand, catching a tear on the tip of his finger. Mark sniffed, self-conscious.

'What do you mean?' He asked softly. Jack cracked a small smile, the first since he'd woken up. God, that felt like hours ago.

'Twice,' Jack repeated. 'I've witnessed you crying. Twice in two days. I never thought I'd even see you cry once.'

Mark chuckled, swiping at the sparse tears. 'Yeah, neither did I.' He admitted. 'Jack I-' He hesitated, trying to find the right words to say. 'I'm so fucking sorry. For what you've been through. Shit, I thought I was bad. But you... I've never met anyone who's had as bad of a time as you have. And I'm sorry. Jesus Christ, If I knew who this 'Steven' asshole was... Mind you, you seem to have it covered already, hmm? I never put you down as Jack McTough Guy.'

'Yeah, neither did I.' Jack echoed Mark's earlier statement. They both cracked up, Mark's laugh deep and warm, Jack's throaty and unfamiliar.

Jack looked down. They were still holding hands.

There didn't seem to be any intention for either of them to stop.

'You know that's the longest amount of time I've ever heard you speak for?' Mark mused.

'I think that's the longest time I've ever spoken in my life.' Jack admitted.

'Well, I'm glad I was your first.' Mark squeezed Jack's hand. Jack heart squeezed with it.

'Yeah,' said Jack. 'So am I.'

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, I think I'm finally getting somewhere with the actual 'septiplier' thing. Haha but honestly, I was quite sad writing Jack's backstory. The smol bean has suffered far too much in his life. I'm ruining him oh no  
> Stupid Steven  
> Stupid Ben  
> God I hate them... Even though I made them... but that's besides the point ok


End file.
